


Unexpected Detour

by Ylevihs



Series: How Not to Fall [40]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth
Genre: Blood, Dehumanization, Gen, Kidnapping, Major Headcanons, Rebirth Spoilers, Regina POV, Retribution Spoilers, Vomit, minor OCs - Freeform, non life threatening injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs
Summary: Regina takes an uncomfortable ride
Series: How Not to Fall [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327892
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Unexpected Detour

“Fucking corporate,” she cursed loudly, pacing in front of the hotel bed. She’d made the mistake of checking her email while brushing out her hair.

The suits had gotten wind of her less than officially sanctioned meeting with the Senator and were now clambering to show her who was really in charge. Complete with official digital letterhead, the email informed her that while regrettable, due to the unforeseen nature of her sudden visit to Los Diablos, they did not have the vehicle Regina had requested currently available. It was a minor slight, offering a smaller car rather than the SUV she’d requested. Just enough of a snub to not seem like one. The larger play had been requiring her to submit and itemized report of her expenses and Regina could feel in her teeth that every purchase was going to be reviewed in agonizingly petty detail.

And there would be more. There would always be more when those ties thought their bottom line was at risk. As if they would even have a product to go to market with without her. Ungrateful little.

Regina tossed the phone onto the bed sheets and returned to trying to fix the rats nest of her hair with the shitty hotel blow drier. Speaking of itemized fucking reports, they were probably already drafting an email to deal with her hotel selection. Too expensive, they would complain, in frillier terms. They might be pleased to know that even with the bill being over two hundred dollars a night, she still hadn’t been offered better amenities than the local motels.

If she had chosen a cheaper, seedy motel, the email would have been about how she embarrassed them in front of one of their chief investors. If she hadn’t looked clean, pressed and professional, she would get chewed out for being one of those sloppy basement dwellers back at the Farm. They’d still bitch at her about the manicure though. Regina glanced at the shine on her cream colored nails. It had been worth the splurge. Senator Carmichael was the sort of woman who liked her women ‘done up’. It never hurt to play to preferences. 

Over her shoulder in the mirror, she watched the straight spined regene she’d selected to serve as her body guard glance at the phone and then immediately swing its eyes up to watch out the window. It was a primary reaction, reacting to the movement but not bothering to inspect the item once it had been deemed not a threat. The speed of the computation was still impressive; twenty years ago Regina would have almost been proud. But it wasn’t exactly a top of the line model, anymore. During development, the Molotov cocktail of chemicals had strengthened its bone density to be almost indestructible. And stronger bones meant stronger anchor points for the musculature. This particular regene could lift a car over its head with only mild muscle damage.

The main side effect, in addition to the cosmetic ones, had been stunted growth. The regene was barely as tall as Regina herself, 152 centimeters if it really stood up straight. Uglier than sin, though; they’d tried filing the facial bones back to give it a more pleasing aesthetic but found the structures would recalcify almost overnight. It was a cuckoo, and passed better than most. The general thought was no one would intentionally make a person look like that.

But it didn’t hold a candle to what they’d been able to achieve since. What they would be able to achieve if she could get Carmichael to relax her purse strings. And for the fucking board to actually give her the money, instead of funneling it straight into their next yachts. They’d warned her in school that most of being a scientist was groveling for funding. But, once it. Aha. Oh, yes, it was calling itself Richard, now. Very quaint. Once Richard attacked, Senator Carmichael would be able to see a first-hand account of what Regina had been able to achieve in the past. The manipulation of two of the Rangers had been an absolutely delightful surprise. It was surpassing even her loftiest expectations for its development. She needed to get it back again.

A few more years of tinkering on it and the US government would be falling over itself for her attentions. And the Chinese. And Russians. And all of those beautiful investors from the private sector, like Senator Carmichael’s husband. And with that sort of money rolling in, even the boardroom would be content to leave her alone for a while. She’d be able to really knuckle down and achieve the sort of scientific breakthroughs that only happened once in a millennia. She would be hailed as the mother of the modern wheel. She could usher in a new age of technology that would change the face of the planet. And all she needed was her pride and joy, back in her arms.

And it was so close she could taste it.

There was a bright chime. Another email. An update from corporate that. Oh those little. The car they were sending her had gotten a flat tire. They apologized for the inconvenience.

Outside, beneath the glare of the Los Diablos midmorning sun, Regina almost lost her cool. It was technically a corporate car. Blacked out windows, bullet proof siding, satellite GPS and a perfectly ironed chauffeur waiting with the door open for her. It didn’t change the fact that it was a four door sedan without enough leg room for a toddler. The trunk couldn’t hold her regular luggage, let alone the portable computer she’d lugged from her personal office. There was no way it was up to spec. There was nowhere to fit the dampeners.

“Oh, I see how it is,” she tried to make the snarl into a scoff and failed. Petty indeed. The ride to the airport would be over an hour in the city’s shitty stop and go traffic.

“Ma’am?” the driver glanced between her and the cuckoo beside her with notable discomfort, door still held open in his sweaty hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” a sharp grumble and Regina tucked herself as neatly into the back passenger’s seat as she could. Bucket seats, too? Goddamnit. “Sit in front,” and the regene nodded, climbing obediently into the front passenger’s side. With, in her opinion an overly loud, grunt the driver hefted her suitcase into the trunk and after a moment of silent debate, came around to the back seat and nervously opened the door.

“Um. Ma’am?” the computer case was in his hands. Bulky and awkward and heavy. Regina managed not to roll her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“Just set it back here with me,”

“Yes, ma’am,” a long pause. “Ma’am, would you please put on your seatbelt?” Regina leveled a glare at him.

“I think I’m good,” she hissed. Her knees were already digging into the seat back, the bucket sides of her own seat were forcing her elbows in against her sides. The computer bag was absolutely going to shift and dig into her thigh midway through the trip. The last thing she needed was something digging in against her chest. Besides, traffic couldn’t move more than thirty miles an hour in this hellhole. The driver pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded once, making a professional face that said he didn’t get paid enough to argue.

The drive began in blessed silence. The driver was clearly off put by the cuckoo, glancing over at it every once and a while, taking in the deformations. It kept him quiet at least. The regene stared straight ahead, not paying him any attention. Regina felt a fraction of her earlier annoyance slip away, in less than five hours she would be back home where she belonged. She could take off the damn heels, take out the contacts, and get back to her work.

The tinted windows weren’t doing nearly enough to block out the sun. Soon though. Soon she’d be back in her nice, controlled, frigid. “Turn up the AC,” not a question and the driver knew better than to treat it as one.

“Yes, ma’am,”

Cold air gushed forward and Regina felt goosebumps travel up her arms. There. Much better. She pulled out her cellphone and keyed up Dr. Venugopal’s number, scrolling through the missed texts from last night. Nothing vitally important had been missed. Two of the tanks in bay four were leaking at secondary joints, but maintenance had soldered them shut. Subjects 2b-34 and 2b-39 were progressing nicely and already had their fingernails developing. Neither showed any signs of brain activity, which had apparently warranted a frowny face emoji from Venugopal. Unprofessional. But Regina could echo the sentiment.

Every new batch was yielding fewer and fewer viable subjects. They needed Carmichael’s funding. Badly.

Regina was busy tapping out her reply, wanting more information on whether the material from the tanks would be salvageable, which was why she was able to ignore it when the driver turned off the wrong exit from the freeway. She did glance up when the car came to a stop earlier than she expected, but a glance out the window showed nothing but construction, so she muttered a curse under her breath and went back to asking on the status of their new infiltration units.

And then she was violently rocked forward, only managing to catch herself by throwing an arm forward. And then jarred back, the phone flying from her fingers as the car jolted and braked suddenly.

“What the–,”

“Sorry Ma’am, looks like we may have hit something?” oh, son of a. “Maybe a dog?”

“And?” was the universe conspiring against her? Seriously?

The driver glanced briefly over his shoulder at her and Regina felt the last few strands of her patience being played like a rusty knife over a violin. Fine. If she missed her flight because they sent her a shitty car, that was on them. Just another hotel night on the company card, she told herself. The rest of her hated being away from the lab for that long. Regina clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, looking down to the driver’s nametag. There was going to be a very unkind review in his future. “Hilda. Get out and move it out of the way,” the regene unclicked its seat belt and stepped out into the street, which now that Regina was looking didn’t. It didn’t seem. The door stayed open, which helped Regina to relax a little. A motorcyclist drove up alongside them, coming to a stop and shaking its helmet in a disapproval, cutting the engine and walking the bike forward to get around them. Regina threw up a middle finger. She was in no mood to.

Hilda’s body moved to kneel down in front of the car as the cyclist tried to edge past. Asshole. It reached out a hand and Regina’s attention was suddenly torn. Her stomach pivoted hard and punched upwards and she felt vomit rise up her throat. Crystal blue arcs of electricity. Hilda’s body going into shocked spasm. A figure she hadn’t noticed dove into the passenger’s side, jerking the door shut.

And then the driver keyed the car into reverse and slammed the accelerator.

Regina lurched forward and her face slammed against the head rest. Something crunched, her vision going double and then exploding in white grey speckles. She felt hot liquid pouring down into her mouth from her broken nose. It hardly felt like she was screaming but she must have been, because copper flooded across her tongue as blood filled her mouth. 

Time rapidly slipped out of consideration; it could have been two seconds or twenty minutes before she felt her own hands coming up to press at her face. Other sounds were happening in the car around her and then very suddenly were not.

Another hard stop. Although shielded by her hands, Regina’s broken nose was jammed again and Regina threw up in her mouth from the pain.

Too much activity.

She. She she she. Needed to. Needed. Something? Stop the. Stop. Bloody. Her nose was broken?

She didn’t have time, there was. Door open. Hands. Something going over eyes, too tight too fast she clawed up and exposed her face and her hands were wrenched behind her back. Terrified adrenaline and animal instinct. Kicked. Missed. Fucking high heels. Struggled. Failed. Massive weight pressure oh god pain punched in her stomach. Wrist met wrist too tight pulling along the skin shoulders elbows bending wrong too stiff. Something was shoved in her mouth. Blood stomach bile old breakfast cloth pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Her body forced air in through her broken nose. Either that or aspirate the vomit now being trapped her mouth by the gag. Regina’s brain had been giving time to settle and was setting about compartmentalizing. Taking stock of her situation.

They’d thrown her into the backseat of the car after binding her ankles. Her wrists were secured behind her back. Her fucking elbows were secured behind her back. She had a broken nose, but hadn’t lost enough blood to be in real shock. Yet. She hoped. Nothing else seemed broken. Her stomach was sore from where they had punched her. She was blindfolded tight enough to already start giving her a headache. It had been maybe ten minutes, if she was counting right. Her heart was racing. She could feel the pulse in her gums.

For a brief moment she had been able to hear road sounds coming from outside; didn’t they say a person could focus and hear when turns were coming? Or was that only in movies? And then the two, she assumed only two in the car, the other had been left to deal with the regene, turned on the radio. Too loud, her head was right by the speaker. They turned the volume up, presumably to mask their conversation.

The third person. Regina’s brain didn’t have to work hard. Clearly Charge. Ricardo Ortega. The distinctive bursts of electrical energy would do some real damage to a regene like Hilda. Its muscles and organs would cramp up and spasm, the same as any humans. And once a heart was off its rhythm, it didn’t matter how strong the bone was. So. No Hilda. For now, at least. The driver had been unfamiliar. An unknown face from all of her research. And the figure, from what she could remember of it, hadn’t been Herald. Hadn’t been anyone she knew of. Someone in armor. Not large enough to be Steel, although he and Ortega had been sniffing around together. Regina didn’t know what to make of that, and so her brain chose to ignore it, not willing to expend energy solving mysteries when the answer was so obvious.

Richard had made his move. Not the move she had been expecting, which was concerning.

Her throat constricted as a piece of clotted blood plugged up a nostril. The airflow was cut sharply down to half and Regina fought back her body’s panic response. Wanting to cough, to suck inwards from her mouth. There was another jostle from the road and then Regina barely had enough warning to even think about bracing. There was nothing to brace with. Brakes squealed. Momentum carried. She rocked forward and then was forced back with enough strength to. She hit her nose again and the world winked out of sight.


End file.
